What a night.
I can safely say that I’ve never enjoyed jazz music. The few times I’d been exposed to the genre, having stumbled across a jazz tune on Spotify or a video on Youtube, only served to cement my views on the subject: jazz was longwinded, jumbled, and didn’t make much sense. Let me now say that my past self was unequivocally wrong about jazz.
Stepping into the Blue Llama Jazz Club on a Saturday evening was like stepping into an alternate realm. The dark interior was dimly washed in hues of blue and orange light, highlighting the stage. Tiny pinpricks, akin to stars dotted the ceiling and each table had a single candle flickering in a bronze cocoon, beckoning us to our seats…And then the food began.
Right now you’re prob
ably thinking to yourself: “Food? Isn’t this blog post supposed to be about the jazz show??”
Yes, it is about the jazz show, but that will come in good time, because this show came with a meal, and by meal, I mean a se
ven course tasting menu sent from heaven. I, having the palette of a five year old child, had never imagined food could have so many flavors or textures. There wasn’t a single dish that wasn’t impeccably plated and served to perfection. As soon as we finished one dish, another would magically appear in front of us. I couldn’t understand half the words the server used to describe the delectable foodstuffs, but I was too focused on trying to keep from salivating to care much. I’ve attached some pictures of the meal for your enjoyment. The frozen grapes featured on the charcuterie board were a particular favorite of mine. We consumed a total of five tasting courses before the show began. At this point, I’d been enjoying the food so much that I couldn’t have believed that the night could become any more magical.
But then the band began to play. And Kurt Elling opened his mouth. And it was beautiful. And it was Jazz. There was this energy that was so potent at times that you could feel it raising the hair on the back of your neck. It wove its way through the crowd and up onto the stage, bouncing off each performer as they gifted their souls away to the river of sound powering into the room. I could feel the beat of the drum in my chest and the whine of the sax shivering down my spine. You could see that they weren’t performing for us. Yes they were up on stage, yes we’d paid to see them, but they weren’t performing so much as giving in to the passion of the music.
I have never liked jazz music.
But, what a night. How could I not love Jazz music?
